


It's a Wonderful Life

by BelleMorte180



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:00:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28011297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BelleMorte180/pseuds/BelleMorte180
Summary: Am I gay?It was a question that plagued him for the past year; maybe even longer if he was honest with himself. He used Rachel as a crutch, hoping to pretend that he was something that he wasn’t. The few other women he took to bed, trying his best to feel the pleasure that everyone craved all the while, pushing down that attraction he felt when he would see a shirtless man at the gym or in some magazine he picked up. But as he sat in that small bedroom, alone with his thoughts, Patrick was beginning to realize that maybe he felt something else. He thought about that boy in high school, the one who he buried his feelings for deep down and acknowledged it for what it was. A crush. A school boy crush.OrThe story of Patrick Brewer and the five Christmas's he spends reflecting and coming to terms with just who he is meant to be.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 7
Kudos: 56





	It's a Wonderful Life

**Author's Note:**

> The timeline in Schitt's Creek makes zero sense. In order for this story to work, I had to put about a year between Patrick's birthday and his proposal to David. David did say that they had been together for two years prior to Patrick proposing in the show so I think it works. 
> 
> This is my first story in this fandom so hopefully you like it. I fussed over it for a few days and it needed to be written. Leave me a comment below!

**It’s a Wonderful Life**

**_Well, you look about the kind of angel I’d get. Sort of a fallen angel, aren’t you? What happened to your wings?_ **

It was Christmas Eve when Patrick reached his breaking point. He was sitting in his childhood home, Rachel leaning against his legs as she laughed with his mother, Marcy Brewer. His father, Clint, was watching  _ It’s a Wonderful Life _ while Patrick just gazed at the screen with little to no interest in the movie they watched every year on Christmas Eve since he was a child. For his mind was racing and that sinking feeling of dread overwhelmed him. He felt as though he was about to jump out of his bones; drowning beneath a crushing wave threatening to consume him.

But he stayed silent. Saying nothing to what he was truly feeling out of fear of what those around him would say. His parents were good people. He knew that. He knew that they would always love him but he could not shake the feeling that if he let himself just  _ be  _ that it would change everything. That they would look at him with less adoration in their eyes. Patrick was their only child and their hopes and dreams for him rang in his ears like an alarm of an oncoming natural disaster; a tornado hell bent on wrecking every once of Patrick’s soul. 

He looked down at Rachel. The pretty girl with long red hair and dark hazel eyes that his parents loved. They had been off and on since high school. Patrick cared about her. He did and part of him even loved her but he realized it wasn’t the type of love that someone should build a relationship upon. They had broken up more times than he could count, Patrick always being the one to end things. He cared for Rachel but it never felt right. Building a life with her, going to bed with her and just the overall idea of the white picket fence with a wife and children felt suffocating. 

But it was his parents’ dream for him. He couldn’t just turn his back on that. Could he?

There had been other women. Whenever Patrick and Rachel had called it quits, Patrick would rebound. He would find some woman completely different than Rachel and try. He would try and feel something, anything with that faceless woman in hopes of fixing himself. He would fumble in bed, never fully able to get pleasure from sex or a real emotional connection. Eventually, the rebound would fail and Patrick would be left, alone, contemplating that something was wrong with him. Every time he would come to the same conclusion; that the best he would ever achieve of happiness was going to be with Rachel. The friendship and companionship was better than nothing at all; even if he lacked being  _ in  _ love with her and felt no desire for her. So, he would go crawling back to his ex-fiancé and they would begin planning the wedding again. 

At least until Patrick began to feel suffocated again. 

The red, green and white Christmas lights on the tree blinded him. The black and white film became blurred and Rachel’s laughter sounded like nails on a chalkboard. He could see it all. The wedding, buying a house and children. Everything his parents wanted for him and everything Patrick thought would fix him. Yet, the mere daydream had him feeling as though his skin was on fire. He couldn’t do it. It was like a nightmare playing out before his eyes. The idyllic life of George Bailey and Mary Hatch was not a life he could envision for himself. 

“Son, you okay?” Clint asked, gazing at his son with worry playing in his eyes. Patrick had always been close with his father. They played baseball in the backyard and it was Clint who taught him how to ride a bike. It was his father who clapped the loudest at his college graduation, claiming that he was proud of his son. It was Clint who always stood by Patrick’s decision to break things off with Rachel time and time again, even though he adored the girl. It was that pride that made Patrick terrified of what Clint would think if he realized just how broken his son felt.

“Yeah. I’m alright.” Patrick replied, the room coming back into focus and that panic just lingering under his skin. Marcy and Rachel both turned to look at him, confusion playing on their faces. He looked towards the dining room table, where the boxes of take-out lingered on the table, the tradition of eating pizza and wings on Christmas Eve due to his mother slaving in the kitchen the following day. “My stomach hurts. I think I ate too much of the wings we had ordered.” 

“There are some tums in the bathroom upstairs. Why don’t you take some of those?” Marcy replied, giving her son a small adoring smile. The look made Patrick’s heart clench. His mother. His loving mother who always wanted what was best for him. Who made him cookies and snacks after baseball as a child. Who showered love and hope over both Patrick and Rachel when they came to visit. Who cried every time Patrick broke up with the girl Marcy was excited to call her daughter in law. “You’re just like your father. Cannot handle spicy foods.” 

“Yeah, I think I’ll do that.” Patrick stood up as Rachel leaned forward, allowing him to move around her. He did not turn to gaze down at her or look at either of his parents as he made his way up the stairs and towards the bathroom down the hall. He passed his childhood bedroom and couldn’t even peek inside. To gaze at the boy he had once been; that teenager who tried desperately to find attraction or  _ feel  _ anything for a girl; any girl. He went to an all boys high school and he remembered how handsome one of the boys had been. Blonde hair, blue eyes and sharp cheekbones. He had a thousand watt smile and made Patrick’s heart skip a beat whenever their eyes locked. 

A young Patrick would go to bed at night, thinking of that handsome boy's face but hating himself when he woke in the morning, an erection sprouting at the mere thought of the boy. He would run then towards Rachel, the daughter of his mother’s best friend. Hoping that he could think of  _ her  _ the way he thought of that boy. He never did. He looked at himself in the bathroom mirror, pale with light brown hair and lips that had not truly smiled in years. Patrick looked at the man gazing back at him and realized just how far he had fallen. He could hear the laughter downstairs and the thought of joining them, being with them, made him feel like he was being smothered. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t be with Rachel. He couldn’t marry her. Like the thousand times before, Patrick knew he had to end things. It wasn’t fair to her.

But it was Christmas Eve. He couldn’t break her heart again on Christmas Eve. 

In the New Year he would end things. A few more days he could pretend. After that, he would end things for good this time. He would look at his parents disappointed faces again. He would listen to Rachel cry. He just could not handle pretending anymore. It was different this time. He could feel it in his bones. He couldn’t crawl back to her. He couldn’t marry her, saving face to the point that it would kill him.

Maybe he would leave town. Take a few business trips, back to back. Or maybe just leave all together. Start over somewhere else. It would break his family’s heart but Patrick realized that he needed to do this. He needed to leave and figure out what was wrong with him. He couldn’t do this anymore.

He needed to figure out who Patrick Brewer was and then maybe, one day, he would smile again. 

*

**_Strange, isn’t it? Each man’s life touches so many other lives. When he isn’t around he leaves an awful hole, doesn’t he?_ **

The following year, Patrick celebrated Christmas Eve alone. It was almost eleven months since he left his hometown, traveling around Canada and parts of the United States. At first, after he ended it with Rachel, he claimed it was business trips. One after the other until he quit his job completely in May. He took his savings and just traveled. After a few months, his mother stopped asking when he was coming home. His father called and texted, asking if he was okay. Sometimes Patrick answered. Sometimes he didn’t.

He still talked with Rachel on occasion. Despite his feelings and general sadness with how their relationship played out, Rachel was still his best friend. He couldn’t confide in her completely. He couldn’t tell her what he was feeling but she tried. She tried to get him to talk, to find out what was wrong but Patrick refused. He knew she was trying to get back together with him. They wouldn’t speak for weeks and out of the blue, she would text him; pretending it was an accident. Patrick would answer. 

In June he almost went back to her. He sat in his car but couldn’t do it. He couldn’t crawl back to her, feeling the way that he did. He picked up a random woman in a bar and tried to sleep with her; it didn’t work. They fumbled beneath the sheets and yet Patrick found that he couldn’t find attraction or pleasure. The woman, a tall blonde named Tracy, just smiled and said it happened sometimes. She got dressed, left and let Patrick lay in his hotel bed staring at the ceiling.

But it happened all the time. 

Eventually he passed through a small town in Canada called  _ Schitt’s Creek  _ and the name made him stop. The sign alone was enough to make him curious. A man standing tall, waving his hat while a woman bent down in front of him, his hands on her hips and her behind pressed into his groin. It was almost graphic but it was the clarifying sign that made Patrick laugh for the first time in years.

_ Don’t worry, it's his sister.  _

Patrick gave a full belly laugh to the point that his insides hurt. He needed to see this town and what the people of  _ Schitt’s Creek  _ would be like. Without a second thought, he drove into town on a blistering November day. Spent the day in the small, unimpressive town until he saw a help wanted sign in the window of what appeared to be a business that did everything and anything. By the end of the day, Patrick had a new job and a room rented from a man named Ray. It was reckless but something deep down told Patrick that this was right and that he finally was on the right path. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to come? It will be extremely fun.” Ray asked with his tell-tale wide smile, pink shirt and balding head. Ray made Patrick laugh. He was an annoying man with no boundaries but it amazed Patrick how many services the man provided but he felt happier in this small rented room with a bizarre job and equally bizarre town than he did the previous year. 

“Thanks Ray but I’m good here.” Patrick told him. In truth, he was not in the mood to celebrate. He did set up a small tree in the corner of his room with some lights but he did nothing else. He did not respond to any of his parents texts or calls, asking if he was coming home for Christmas. He missed Thanksgiving in October and made no plans to join them for the winter holidays. He was just not ready. “I like the quiet.” 

“Well if you’re sure…” Ray stated, turning around and leaving Patrick’s room, leaving the door wide open. He shook his head and walked over to the door, carefully pulling it shut. He had been tempted by Ray’s offer to attend some party held at some town’s person’s home. It wasn’t that Patrick didn’t want to make connections in the town. He had only been there for a few weeks and wanted to take it slow. He was still figuring himself out, toying with the truth that was bouncing around in his mind. 

_ Am I gay? _

It was a question that plagued him for the past year; maybe even longer if he was honest with himself. He used Rachel as a crutch, hoping to pretend that he was something that he wasn’t. The few other women he took to bed, trying his best to feel the pleasure that everyone craved all the while, pushing down that attraction he felt when he would see a shirtless man at the gym or in some magazine he picked up. But as he sat in that small bedroom, alone with his thoughts, Patrick was beginning to realize that maybe he felt something else. He thought about that boy in high school, the one who he buried his feelings for deep down and acknowledged it for what it was. A crush. A school boy crush. 

Patrick was never going to be happy with a woman. That much he knew and could accept. The harder part was coming to terms with the part of him that he fought against for so long. He stopped answering Rachel’s calls in October but would occasionally answer her texts. It was guilt. That much he knew. He felt guilty for dragging her along for close to fifteen years, all the while unable to commit because he just wasn’t attracted to women.

He sat down upon his double bed and laid down. It took a few days to get his few meager items. Everything was new, due to having sold the majority of his belongings when he fled a year prior. Patrick placed his face into his hands, almost wishing that he had gone with Ray; despite not being ready. He needed to come to terms with what he was feeling first, before he made an honest effort to engage with other people. Baby steps. 

Patrick felt his phone vibrate on the bedside table. He groaned, assuming that it was Rachel again. He picked up the phone and froze. It was not his ex-fiance who called but instead his mother’s name flashed on the screen. It was Christmas Eve and typically he was home. This was the first year that he was not sitting in his parent’s living room, eating take-out and watching Christmas movies. He was not surprised that she would call. He knew that his mother was taking his departure the hardest but Patrick knew deep down that he needed to do this. 

Being home, he would never be able to figure out who he was. 

“Hey mom.” Patrick said into the phone, hoping that he wouldn’t have to listen to his mother cry again. When he first left, he went four months without speaking to them. It was Rachel that kicked him into gear, like she always had. He called and while their relationship at the moment was strained, it was better than nothing. 

“Hey Sweetheart. How are you?” Marcy asked, her voice strained and filled with sadness. Patrick felt a pang of guilt. Part of him knew that he should be home while the other part of him was telling him that it was okay to be selfish right now. 

“I’m okay. Getting ready to head to a party with a friend.” Lie. Patrick rarely lied to his parents about such things. He had always been honest with them. This past year, keeping his thoughts and feelings to himself about the fact that he was questioning his sexuality was hard. However, he was just not ready to have them disown him yet. He wasn’t fully ready for them to write him off. He needed more time. 

“Oh! That sounds like fun!” Marcy said, a small hint of relief in her voice and Patrick knew he made the right choice. It was better than telling his mother he was alone in his room on Christmas Eve. “I won’t hold you up then. I just wanted to check in and see how you were.” Marcy paused and Patrick could hear the deep breath she took before continuing. “We are having a small New Year’s dinner on the first. Rachel will be out of town and I was hoping that-”

“I can’t mom.” Patrick rushed out. Even though Rachel wouldn’t be there, he just wasn’t ready to go back to that childhood home. If he did, Patrick knew that he would fall back into that pattern of pretending, ruining any small progress he had made. Of course his parents would assume that his break-up with Rachel was the cause of his flight, and while in part that was true, there was just so much that they didn’t know. “I’m sorry but I’m just not ready. I need more time.”

“Okay.” Her voice was small and Patrick could hear the heartbreak in it. He wished he could make it better. He wished that he could heal the disappointment and pain that he was causing both of his parents but he needed to sort himself out first. Come to terms with the truth that was staring him in the face before gathering the courage to see his parents or the rest of his extended family again. “I love you. I really love you and I just want you to know that you can talk to me. Whatever sent you on this journey, whatever it is that is bothering you; please know that you can talk to me. Okay?” 

“I know.” The lie slipped out easily. He wasn’t sure he could talk to her. Not about this. The fear that she wouldn’t accept him or love him the same raged within him. He loved his mother and if hearing the pain in her voice was heart wrenching for him, how would he feel when she turned her back on him completely? He wouldn’t be able to stand it. “I love you too. I’m okay. I promise.” 

They spoke for a few more minutes before Patrick said his goodbyes. He tossed his phone onto the bed and laid down, gazing at the ceiling above him. His eyes burned and he couldn’t hold the tears back. They flowed freely down his cheeks and he did nothing to stop them. Ray was out and he was alone so he allowed himself to have this moment. He allowed himself to cry. He allowed himself to feel the pain and doubt that caused him to be at war with himself. 

When the tears had dried and the saltiness of them burned his cheeks, Patrick changed from his slacks and blue button down into a pair of sweats. He curled up on his double bed alone, and flipped through the channels on the small television that was perched awkwardly on an end table across from his bed. Eventually, he found  _ It’s a Wonderful Life  _ and he let it play in the background, unable to focus on the scenes in front of him. 

“Is this how the rest of my life will be? Living alone on Christmas?” Patrick asked aloud to the empty room. Slowly, he fell asleep as the town around him celebrated the holiday festivities. At least asleep, Patrick didn’t feel the nagging sense of loneliness that had become of his life. What he didn’t know was that only a few miles away, in a run down motel, was someone else feeling the same sense of loneliness that he felt. 

But in the New Year, everything would change.   
  


*

**_Remember, George: no man is a failure who has friends._ **

Patrick had to admit that he never had a Christmas Eve like this. The motel was decorated with items from the store he now co-owned with David. At first, David had not wanted to use the decorations from the store in hopes of being able to buy an espresso machine but then he changed his mind. Something about Mr. Rose breaking down at the motel. David, under all the designer clothes and flawless skin was a man with a caring heart. David wanted to make the evening special for his father, who wanted so badly to celebrate Christmas after having missed it the year before. While Patrick would never fully begin to understand the Rose family, he had to admit that he was glad that he met them. 

He rested his chin against David’s shoulder and wrapped his arms around his middle. David had been unexpected. Patrick had not expected on that hot summer day to find a man in black sweater handing him a slip of paper,  _ B13 _ , in order to begin his business. Patrick wasn’t lying when he said that  _ Rose Apothecary  _ was a good idea but it wasn’t the only reason why he worked so hard to become a business partner with David. 

Meeting David and the subsequent phone messages he had left made Patrick feel something he hadn’t felt since the strings of a boyhood crush. Attraction. At first, Patrick was unsure what he was doing. He secured the grant money and helped David get the business off the ground because he wanted to be close to this enigma of a man. Patrick wanted to reach out and touch his perfect hair, to kiss those luscious lips and to feel his smooth skin under his hands. He wanted to hear David laugh, hold him when he cried and just be there with him when things got rough. For the first time in his life, Patrick felt the desire to take another person to bed and knew the pleasure sex could bring.

Patrick had come to terms with that part of himself he had been trying to ignore his whole life. He was gay. Ironically, it was Ray that pointed him in that direction. The man was nosey and had mentioned that Twyla at the café was single, giving him that tell-tale smile. Patrick immediately rebuked the idea and then the realization hit Ray. 

_ “Oh! You’re gay! Well, there is a man living at the motel with his family who is single, I think. I can give you his number. The two of you would be very cute together.”  _

Patrick refused, the acceptance hitting him like a battering ram but it felt right. Hearing the words slip out of the lips of someone else, as though they were speaking the weather was refreshing to Patrick. There was no judgment or scorn that he had feared. Just acceptance and if anything, understanding. The battle then became about whenever he would be ready to come out to those he loved.

Ten weeks later, David walked into Rays handing him the slip of paper and fumbled to explain what he wanted his business to be. The feelings bubbled inside him and Patrick found himself taking long hikes to sort out what he wanted. Working with David, hugging David, and watching this hurricane of a man strive to rebuild his life made Patrick feel not just acceptance of who he was, but what it meant to be loved. He had come so far in a year from that the lonely man who spent last Christmas alone seemed so foreign to him.

“What is going on in that brain of yours? I can hear you making mental spreadsheets from a mile away.” David whispered to him, kissing his cheek lightly. The Jazzagals were singing some Christmas melody that made Patrick feel at peace. Mr. Rose had tears streaming down his face while Alexis, David’s sister, swayed in the arms of her boyfriend Ted. It had been a long and chaotic journey for the Rose family but so had it been for Patrick. He was nowhere near the end and the ache was still there but it was easing. 

“I’m thinking about my Mariah Carey.” Patrick replied, enjoying the sight of David’s goofy smile gracing his lips. He adored seeing David happy, even with his flare for dramatics and his never ending inability to compromise. He loved this man and was happy every day that he had left home when he did, just to be able to spend this Christmas Eve with him and his family. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” David replied gently, the words spilling out of his lips as though it was the most natural thing in the world. Patrick knew that David had issues saying the words. His life experience had made it difficult to trust people, let alone love them. Patrick had almost messed that up. His own fears had gotten in the way and almost losing David, only made Patrick realize completely, that he had never loved Rachel or any other woman, because he couldn’t. “I love you so much.”

Patrick Brewer was a gay man and he was finally able to say those words aloud. 

At least to himself and to the people of  _ Schitt’s Creek _ . His family was another story. He spoke to them more often. They knew about the store and how he partnered up with David in business but nothing about their relationship. He knew that he owed it to David to tell his parents about them but he still had reservations. He loved David and everyday that past, he knew that he wanted to spend his life with him; he just hoped that his parents would accept that. In the seven months that they had been together, Patrick never felt this happy but he didn’t want his parents to ruin that. 

He was afraid that Rachel would say something to them, tell them before he was ready. When she had come to  _ Schitt’s Creek _ in hopes of dragging him back home and to rekindle their relationship, Patrick was taken aback. He did not expect her to show up and the guilt about withholding that information from David still ate at him sometimes. Rachel was hurt, and Patrick could not blame her. He cared for her but he still used her in hopes of changing who he was. The sad light that registered in her eyes when she realized why Patrick had run and why he had run away haunted him. 

Rachel didn’t scorn or hate him for being gay. She was just hurt because deep down, she did love him and knowing that she would never have that chance to be with him was a wound that would linger; but that did not stop her from caring and being accepting. Patrick supposed that was what love was, accepting those you love even when it rips your heart out in the end. She promised not to say anything to his parents until he was ready but part of him distrusted that promise. He waited for the day his parents would call, cutting all ties with him. If they did, Patrick knew he would have David to lean on. He would have the Roses. He wouldn’t be alone.

The melody ended and the room clapped, applauding the Jazzagals. Mrs. Rose walked over to her husband, holding out her arms and kissing him lightly on the lips. The happiness that radiated from Mr. Rose was infectious. Even Stevie had tears in her eyes; that hard shell slowly cracking by being around those who she cared for. David turned his head, kissing the top of Patrick’s hair, causing him to smile. He was happy but there still was this lingering doubt in the back of his mind. 

He looked around the room. The town’s people of  _ Schitt’s Creek _ had come together in order to make this night special for Mr. Rose and Patrick knew that he would be happy with this family. They were so open and accepting of who they were. Alexis in her spoiled and selfish ways, but still had a caring heart underneath. Mrs. Rose in her dramatics and fits of mania. Mr. Rose who was the calm and probably only sane member of the family, but the one who held everyone together. Even Stevie, the adopted member who had no family of her own, but one the Rose’s had claimed in the year and a half they had lived in this rundown motel. 

And then there was David. 

David loved him with no strings or preset notions of who he should be. David saw him for everything that he was. He knew that Patrick had never been with a man before and was willing to take it slow. David who was so experienced but so insecure with himself that it almost put them on equal footing. Patrick had a relationship that lasted fifteen years but it had been entirely false while David had never been in a real relationship either. They were each other's first in so many ways that Patrick actually felt whole and right with him. He wasn’t lying to him back in September when Rachel had surprised them. David made him feel right. David made him feel as though he wasn’t broken; made him feel as though the desires he had were okay. 

All the Roses did. 

“Oh, that is just..just...not correct!” David exclaimed, pulling Patrick from his thoughts. Across the room, Roland had his wife, Jocelyn in his arms but his hands rested on her behind. David’s nose was scrunched up in disgust. Patrick chuckled at the sight. “Stevie, please tell me you have wine left over from your twelve-bottles from your Christmas tradition. I need something to obliterate this sight from my memory!”

“I’m still standing, aren't I?” Stevie retorted, her voice still muffled from the tears that she was desperately trying to hide. She reached behind her to grab an open bottle and poured David a glass. She looked towards Patrick and held up the bottle, cocking her eyebrow in question. He shook his head, knowing that he would have to drive back to Ray’s shortly and he was hoping to convince David to come with him. However, he knew that he might want to stay with his family; something Patrick wasn’t going to argue with even if the thought of being at Ray’s alone depressed him. 

Patrick felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and his mother’s name flashed up on the screen. He thought on whether or not he should answer but knew that he should. He tapped David on the shoulder to gain his attention, pointed to his phone and then outside. David nodded, understanding and gave him a peck on the lips. Patrick pulled away from his boyfriend and headed towards the motel door, grabbing his coat that hung by the door. By the time he was outside in the cold air, he had missed the call. He pulled up his mother’s number, pressing the call button and waiting for her to pick up. It didn’t even ring twice before his mother’s voice sounded on the other end. 

“Patrick!” 

“Sorry about that. It was loud inside and needed to step outside.” Patrick stated, hoping it explained why he missed her call. The delight in her voice told Patrick that she was worried he wouldn’t call her back. He had gotten better with communicating with them but he wasn’t perfect. Especially around the concept of David. “How are you and Dad?”

“Oh, we are good. Just watching  _ It's a Wonderful Life.” _ Marcy replied and Patrick smiled. Some things never change. “Your Aunt Marilyn was here earlier. She asked about you. I told her all about the business and how well you’re doing. I showed her the photos of the store that you had sent me and she said it was darling. She wanted to take a drive down in the spring to see it but I told her that we would have to see.”

Patrick winced. He could read between the lines. It had been two years since he had seen his parents in person. They had stopped asking when he was coming home, accepting that he may never actually return. They mentioned a few times that they would like to make the five hour drive to  _ Schitt’s Creek _ for a visit but Parick always had an excuse. He wasn’t ready. He turned back to look at the motel and the people inside. He thought of David and his family. He thought about how they welcomed him as David’s boyfriend so easily. 

He wanted his parents to do the same for David.

“I think that would be nice.” Patrick said slowly and he could almost see his mother freeze on the other line. “I would love you to come and see the store. Obviously in the spring or summer, when the weather is better but I think that you would love it. There are a few products that we source locally that would help with Dad’s dry skin.” 

“Marcy, everything okay?” His father’s voice sounded in the background and Patrick smiled. He missed his dad. The one man who was able to sooth his mother’s worries away. As a child, he viewed his parent’s relationship as ideal and something that he one day should achieve. Perhaps that is why he worked so hard to make things work with Rachel when such a relationship was just not possible. However, with David, Patrick could see himself being the one to calm him when something set him off; and there were many things that could set David Rose off. “Marcy?”

“Everything is fine Clint.” She replied to her husband and Patrick could hear the phone muffle slightly, as though she had turned away from the receiver. “Patrick was just telling me how he would like for us to make a trip in the spring or summer to see the store. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

“Yeah. It would.” His father’s voice was muffled and hard to hear but Patrick knew that he was choking up. It was obvious that his father was taken aback and overwhelmed by the request. Guilt pooled in the pit of his stomach. “I look forward to it.”

They exchanged a few more pleasantries where passed between them before Patrick ended the call. He sucked in a breath of the cold air, enjoying the coolness that entered his lungs. He knew that he should have asked them to come for New Years. They would have made the drive even though it was last minute. But he couldn’t face them yet. He wanted to give himself more time to build up the courage to tell his parents about David.

About him. 

*

**_Look Daddy, Teacher says that everytime a bell rings, an angel gets his wings._ **

It wasn’t until the early summer that he saw his parents again when David invited them to a surprise birthday party. The truth of his relationship with David had come out by some mixed communication by Mr. Rose but Patrick was thankful. If anything, it made his confession easier. He told them everything and they welcomed him with open arms; not a single ounce of judgement could be found in their eyes. Their words were comforting, loving and everything Patrick had known his entire life. They adored David and over the months they would make weekend trips to see them. Clint would go look at vendors with them while Marcy was teaching David to cook. Soon, it became as though his parents had folded themselves back into his life easily but never once pressured him to return to the small town he grew up in.

Patrick was happy to have his parents active in his life again. They were not angry with him for taking so long to reconnect with them but instead they understood. They did not press him for details during the two and a half years that he had been gone. He would say a few things here and there, and a painful look would come over their faces but they never commented on it. It was a journey that they now understood Patrick needed to take. It was one he had to walk alone and while it pained them to be on the outside, gazing at a fogged glass unsure of what was happening, they loved Patrick enough to accept what he had done. Not offering forgiveness for it was not needed. 

It amazed Patrick how easily David fit into their lives. Three weeks after his birthday, David and his mother started texting back and forth and he even had at least one phone conversation with his father a week. Now, it was Christmas Eve again, three years since he had left home, and the four of them were crammed into his tiny apartment in  _ Schitt’s Creek _ , watching  _ It's A Wonderful Life.  _ A Brewer family tradition. 

It wasn’t exactly the same as it had been three years ago, when he sat in that living room and felt like the world around him was removing the air from his lungs. But as he leaned against his kitchen counter, watching as David moaned over the timeless fashion style of Mary Hatch while Marcy also gave a few comments here and there, Patrick knew that there was not a single place he would rather be. The smile on his mother’s lips as she looked adoringly at David made Patrick’s heart swell. He could feel himself begin to heal, the light at the end of journey was one he could almost touch. Maybe next Christmas he would get there with David by his side.

The whole Christmas Eve had been surreal. They attended the motel Christmas party, much like they had the year prior but instead, his parents had been invited before moving back to Patrick’s tiny apartment with take-out and an old classic film. Mr. Rose had reached out personally and invited them when David told them that they were coming for Christmas. They accepted the invitation happily, for it was just two sets of parents who loved their children unconditionally. Watching his parents get along with Mr. Rose and accepting Mrs. Rose’s antics were enough to make him realize that, while it was painful, leaving home three years ago was the right thing to do. 

It led him to David. 

It led him to realizing who he really was. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” Clint asked his son, pulling Patrick from his musings. “You have this day-dreaming look on your face.” Patrick felt his face going flush and Clint’s knowing smile. “You know, your mother and I really like David. He is your complete opposite but the two of you work. Although, I can definitely see now where he gets his choice on clothes from. I never thought I’d say this but after meeting Moira Rose, David is pretty tame in comparison.”

“Is that a nice way of saying the Rose’s are a bit eccentric?” Patrick asked, knowing that his father would laugh at that. He often commented on David’s fashion sense and how it confused him. They had never met anyone like David Rose but they accepted him for everything that he was and David became a member of the Brewer family. The idea of having this Christmas Eve tradition and including David in it just felt right. For the last year and a half, since meeting David, he finally feels right and whole. He know longer feels broken. He finally understood what it meant to be loved.

“Possibly.” Clint chuckled and nodded. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Patrick-”

“No. I’m serious. This isn’t me trying to hide anything. I’m just thinking about the future.” Patrick stated and he could see his father’s shoulders sag in relief. While he knew his parents trusted him, there would always be this question in the back of their mind if there was something Patrick wasn’t telling them. There was something right on the tip of his tongue. He looked at his father and knew he needed to give him a mile for the miles that he spent running. “I’m going to ask David to marry me.” 

“What?” Client exclaimed in a low but surprised tone. Not a single hint of scorn in his eyes or worry, just excitement that the prospect of his son getting married. His eyes flickered to the sofa where his wife and David were still happily chatting. When Patrick and Rachel announced their engagement, he never saw that excitement on Clint’s face. “Did you ask already? What did he say? When do you plan on getting married?”

“No. No. I haven’t asked yet. The rings aren't ready yet and I think I want to wait until it gets warmer.” Patrick thought back to the hikes he had taken in the weeks after he had first met David. In a time when he was just beginning to accept who he actually was. Accepting the fact that he was gay. It was David who taught him to love that part of himself even if the rest of the world didn’t. “There is a place that I want to take him but doing so in winter might have him refusing me.”

“He won’t.” Client replied with conviction. “That man loves you. I still remember your birthday and how he came so bravely into our motel room, ready to ream us a new one if we didn’t accept you.” Patrick froze, not knowing what to say. While he knew that his parents accepted his relationship with David, they never really spoke on it and Patrick dreaded that conversation. He liked how everything was going. He liked having his parents in his home with David. He didn’t want to ruin that. “Whatever you choose to do in your life. Marrying David or not. Living in a town with a weird name and owning your own business. Patrick, you must know that we love you. No matter what. We want you to be happy and loved. We liked Rachel but seeing you with David, we now know that you were fighting with yourself for so long. But here, seeing you this happy? We know this is where you are meant to be and that is enough for us. Even if you never come home again, seeing you happy like this, it's enough.” 

“Thank you.” He didn’t know what else to say. What else could he say? He knew that all that fear and anxiety that plagued him for so long was unfounded. However, he knew that it was something he needed to experience. If he didn’t, then he never would become the man he was now. “Thank you. I really needed to hear that.”

“Anytime.” Clint replied. He leaned forward and kissed his son on the head, pulling him into a tight embrace. Patrick caught David’s eye from the couch, watching them hug. There was a light smile tugging at David’s lips; the corners turning upward. “Just always talk to us. About anything. Don’t shut us out again. I do not think your mother and I could handle it. Promise?”

“Okay. I promise.” With that, Clint went back into the small living room to take a seat in the one extra chair positioned near the bathroom. It wasn’t an ideal home but this tiny apartment was the first real place Patrick felt that he was himself. Those four walls felt more like home than the three bedroom house located in a cul-de-sac he grew up in. This town with a funny name and almost graphic sign felt more right than the small town where everyone knew the Patrick Brewer he pretended to be.

David whispered something to Marcy and stood from the sofa. He made his way over to Patrcik and wrapped his arms around him. Patrick leaned up and kissed David on the lips, knowing his parents were watching them. It didn’t matter. He knew that there was no scorn to be found. He was in the arms of the man he loved and that was enough.

“What were you and Clint discussing that had you frowning? It looked really intense and I wasn’t sure if I needed to save you or not.” David asked, knowing that Patrick was in no danger but still needed to know that his boyfriend was okay. “Ted and Alexis offered to come and watch the movie with us and for my sister to offer something completely selfless, well that says something. I can call them if you like. The movie is almost over but they could join us for dessert. It would be a good distraction.”

“No. I’m glad it is just us.” Patrick replied, wondering if they even had dessert. Knowing David, there probably was a cheesecake stashed away in the freezer that Patrick missed. There were no shields put between the couple. Nothing but open honesty. Patrick did not know how much he needed that in order to feel whole. He never would have been able to have this with Rachel or any other woman. He never would have been able to love them in the way he loved David. “I think I needed this. Spending time with you and my parents, with no distractions and not to be pulled in a thousand directions. To celebrate Christmas as we did when I was little, but knowing that they would accept me in anything that I choose to do.”

“Good.” David leaned down, kissing him again. “You still haven’t told me what you and your father were talking about though. You okay?” 

“I’m perfect. And we were talking about you.” David cocked one of his expressive eyebrows and Patrick chuckled. “My dad likes you.”

“Of course he does. What is not to like?” 

“If you asked Stevie, I’m sure she could give you a list.” Patrick stated and that earned him a pinch from David. He placed his hand on David’s cheek, stroking his cheek. “He told me that you make me happy and that's enough for him. That he would love anyone I did because it is everything he and my mother wanted for me. And they are right.” He could see the tears beginning to leave a long trail down his cheek. “You David Rose, are the love of my life and I am so thankful you walked into my life and left me all those voice messages.”

“You really enjoy bringing me to tears.” David’s voice was hoarse. He raised one of his hands and waved his hand in his face, hoping to dry the tears. “You know that saying I love you is not something I’m good at doing but with you saying it is easier than sleeping the morning away in egyptian cotton sheets.” 

“High praise indeed, given that you’re not a morning person.” Patrick smiled as he rested his head against looking back into the living room. Clint had moved to the sofa and held Marcy in his arms. They both had content looks on their faces as they watched the ending scene to the movie. 

“You do know that you can delete those voice messages, right?”

“Not a chance.”

*

**_You see George, you’ve really had a wonderful life._ **

Patrick drove the five and a half hours from  _ Schitt’s Creek _ to the small town just outside Toronto. David was in the passenger seat and wide awake which amazed Patrick. He had not expected it. He had thought he would spend most of the drive in silence with only David’s snores for company. His husband was not a morning person but David seemed to know that Patrick needed him completely today. That there was not a single moment that David was going to waste asleep when Patrick was taking the final step in his journey; completing the circle that he had begun four years ago. 

It was David who suggested that celebrate Christmas with his parents at their home instead of having them drive to  _ Schitt’s Creek _ . It was a gentle nudging and one that David would accept if he was rejected. Patrick thought long and hard about what it meant to go back there. They could easily celebrate their first Christmas together as a married couple in their small cottage they had bought or even host a small Christmas Eve party at the apothecary. Maybe convince Alexis to leave New York for a few days to be with them or travel to Los Angeles instead to be with Mr. and Mrs. Rose. 

But it wasn’t the right choice. 

Patrick knew what he needed to do. He was truly happy and in a place that he was finally content with who he was. He belonged to a community, co-owned a store that instilled a sense of pride within him and loved a man that looked at him as though he set the sun and hung the moon. But there was something else lingering just beneath his skin. It was what he had gone searching for when packed up and left everything behind. 

Love. 

The love story of Patrick Brewer did not begin with a small piece of paper that read  _ B13 _ or an open mic night that had Tina Turner’s words flowing through his lips. Those were all important milestones in such a long journey but they were not the beginning. His love story began the moment he put his keys into the ignition of that shitty Toyota that had a tendency to break down every few hundred miles. It was the moment he left the nest for the first time since college. David Rose was a lighting bolt, a hurricane and climax of a love story reaching its peak. David Rose was a defining moment in something epic but he wasn’t the catalyst. Not in this. The love story of Patrick and David was heartwarming and special but not the one meant to be told on Christmas Eve.

The love story of Patrick Brewer is a tale of how he fell in love with himself. 

Patrick looked back on his journey as he drove his new car, one that David insisted they invest in since his was deemed a death trap and drove down the highway towards a place he had not been in years. He wouldn’t say it was home. No. Home was the small cottage across from a farm and the apothecary that they had just left and one that he would return to in a few days time with his husband. Where he was heading towards was closure. 

A place with equally fond memories as there were painful ones. Years of pretending to be something that he was not. Years of hating himself and the skin he was in. Years of wishing he could feel something, anything that told him that he was right; that he was okay and that he wasn’t broken. While his childhood home would always be one he cherished or at least parts of it, it was not one that he could claim as home. 

He spent four years running from this place. Running in hopes of finding himself. He never expected to find that peace he so badly needed in a small town called  _ Schitt’s Creek _ . In truth, home would be wherever David was but there was something about that town that grounded them. It was the place they both grew into the men they were and it was where true love blossomed; and not just between each other. 

“How are you holding up?” David asked, and Patrick turned to look at him. They were fifteen minutes away from his parent’s home. He could feel his heart beating in his chest, nerves wrecking him and doubts flooding his mind. David reached out and took his hand that was resting on the shift, their wedding rings clinking together. David picked up his husband’s hand and brought it to his lips, the kiss bringing Patrick’s fears to rest just ever so slightly. “I’ll be here every step of the way.” 

“Promise?”

“Upon my cashmere sweaters, I promise.” Patrick chuckled and shook his head. David did not let go of his husband’s hand, knowing the comfort that it brought him. Words that he had once told Patrick when he was ready to finally take a step out of the closet and into the warmth of the world around him. It was something personal and something he needed to do on his terms but that David would be there every step of the way. “If it helps, tonight is just you, me, Clint and Marcy, watching  _ It's a Wonderful Life  _ while eating pizza and wings, which I’ll admit I’m looking forward to more than the movie. The rest of your family won’t be here till tomorrow and if they cannot accept you for who you are, well, I promise to give them a show to remember.” 

“Do I want to know what that means?” Patrick knew David and when he wanted to cause a scene, he was excellent at doing so. He had sulking down to a masterpiece and used sarcasm as an ironclad shield. David was a man filled with insecurities and trust issues, but one that Patrick felt privileged of being loved by. It was a joy to be protected behind that shield and to have earned that trust. If spending Christmas with his extended family proved to be disastrous, then at least he knew that David would be there to hold him up. He wouldn’t have to run for another four years. He could come back to this place, hold his head up high and not care what other people thought because Patrick truly loved who he had become. 

“Let’s just say I might have inherited Moria Rose’s flare for dramatics.” 

“David, I knew that the second I met your mother.” Patrick told him, earning him an eye roll that would have made Stevie proud. “But thank you. I appreciate it. Mom says that everyone seemed supportive of us but the empty place settings at the wedding told a different story.” 

“We did get married during a massive thunderstorm so there is a chance that they didn’t show because of the rain.” David countered and the reasoning was so practical that Patrick almost steered off the road. He gave his husband a look of disbelief. “What? You’re acting like I’ve never given you pearls of wisdom before. I’ll let you know that I am very wise and knowledgeable. I’m like Carrie Bradshaw but with better hair.” 

“Sure David.” Patrick chuckled, shaking his head and he suddenly realized that he was turning into his parent’s driveway. David smiled gently at him and he realized that his husband timed this. To distract him just enough so he wouldn’t obsess the mere moments before he pulled up to the cul-de-sac. The house looked exactly as it had four years ago and yet, it was completely different; but maybe it was because he was the one who had changed. It was a comfortable looking two story home that blended in with the rest of the neighborhood. It had a white porch, white siding and red brick on parts. The shutters were a light blue and through the windows, they could see both Clint and Marcy looking through the glass; waiting for them. 

David looked over to his husband, giving him an encouraging smile. Patrick could feel his heart skip a beat at the sight. His husband’s dark eyes were soft and glowing, filled with love and understanding. There were also flickers of concern. Worried about the Brewer extended family and how conservative their views could be. Even if he was scorned and his cousins turned from him, Patrick knew that David would be there. That he had the Rose’s to lean on, a family to welcome him simply because he loved their son. He had his parents who he knew would never turn their back on him for simply being himself. Patrick had come full circle, a complete turn from the man he had been to the man he was meant to be. Patrick now knew that he really did have a wonderful life to live and wouldn’t be doing so alone.

“Merry Christmas, Patrick.” 

“Merry Christmas, David.”

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted this story to be a coming of age story in a way. I wanted to show Patrick's struggle getting to the point he is at in the show with David. We only get hints of him coming out. Like, the episode with Rachel then again with his parents. I wanted to dive into that story and mirroring it off of It's A Wonderful Life just felt right.


End file.
